


The Cursed Heir

by WritingBarnes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Cats, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fantasy, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Light Angst, Light-Hearted, Meet-Cute, Prince Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-14 00:28:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14759192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingBarnes/pseuds/WritingBarnes
Summary: Older folks in the town told stories of the last Prince of the old kingdom, with looks that made everyone swoon, voice that could melt the heart of the Snow Queen, and hair smoother than Rapunzel from the land across the sea. The kingdom was in its glory where the king and queen reigned peacefully, their only heir trained to be as kind and as smart as his parents. One old lady at the town told the horror of the fateful day her grandmother told her, where he was cursed to live inside the castle for eternity after he tried to kill his future bride on their wedding day. There were chaos and deaths and darkness that loomed over the kingdom before the remaining survivors gathered and built a small town to live in.The truth is…“It’s all a bunch of bullshit.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve finally finished 4/5 chapters and decided to share it ! :D This is my first time writing this genre, i think?? so I hope you like it. Tell me what you think! Thank you Victoria for the prince Bucky Idea and for proofreading this
> 
> Will be updated every two days

_There was a beautiful small castle hidden inside the thick forest with trees so tall it reached the sky, blocking the warmth of the sun. Wild roses grew in profusion and twined its tendrils on the dark colored high walls that surrounded the castle ground, the mosses thrived under the cold, damp, forest, coloring the walls a wintry shade of dark green. The ground was covered with brownish green wild grass, accentuating its otherworldly ambience of the castle._

_Some people said it was the home of the vampires or powerful witches with their peculiars from centuries ago. Brave teenagers would dare each other to approach the castle ground, running away in fear when they heard voices and screams. There were lions and eagles the size of a monster inside, they said. The gargoyles perched on the roof of the castles were said to come alive at night and feast on intruders that dared to disrupt them. There were urban tales of missing children and parents who cried to their death after they found their lifeless bodies on the outskirts of the forest weeks later. Countless horror stories were told around bonfires on full moon festivals mid-autumn by youngsters, drawing squeals and laughter, a mindless entertainment for the night._

_Older folks in the town told stories of the last Prince of the old kingdom, with looks that made everyone swoon, voice that could melt the heart of the Snow Queen, and hair smoother than Rapunzel from the land across the sea. The kingdom was in its glory where the king and queen reigned peacefully, their only heir trained to be as kind and as smart as his parents. One old lady at the town told the horror of the fateful day her grandmother told her, where he was cursed to live inside the castle for eternity after he tried to kill his future bride on their wedding day. There were chaos and deaths and darkness that loomed over the kingdom before the remaining survivors gathered and built a small town to live in._

 

_The truth is…_

 

“It’s all a bunch of bullshit.” [Y/N] rolled her eyes as she wrapped a few fresh stems of lilies with cream colored paper doilies, tightly tying them together with a thin string. It earned her a light smack on the back from her sister, who had been in the middle of her epic story-telling.

 

“Language!” Peggy admonished, turning to the slightly uncomfortable customer with the flowers. “I think the old lady is telling the truth.” She said, glancing back at [Y/N] with a pointed look.

 

“I think she is too.” The customer, a quiet woman with dark brown hair and red gown she knew as Wanda, quipped. “Some says she’s a witch. I think she knows the truth behind the scary castle.”

 

[Y/N] tuned out the never-ending town gossip, busying herself with her cloak and her empty wicker basket sitting on the wooden table. She grabbed her satchel afterwards and carefully put her lunch, a few slices of bread with strawberry jam and a bottle of flower tea inside, not forgetting her notebook and pens. She smoothed down her hands down her ankle-length tunic dress, a dark blue piece she had gotten from Wanda the dressmaker after she helped her finding a rare flower near the mountains for her wedding. Her leather boots made a knocking sound with each steps she took towards the front door, hands fumbling with the fastening of her cloak.

 

“I’m going to catalogue more wildflowers near the forest,” [Y/N] told Wanda with a small smile, “I’ll be back before dinner.”

 

“Bring some extra food with you.” Peggy stopped [Y/N], grabbing a small fish bread Wanda had brought earlier, and handed it to her. “Clint made too much today.” Wanda explained with a sheepish smile.

 

“Thank you. I’ll eat it well.” [Y/N] thanked Peggy and Wanda before she left the shop.

 

.

 

It took her half an hour to reach the outskirts of the forest, where bright wildflowers grew in abundance. She glanced up from the familiar flowers near her feet and to the forest in front of her, curiosity growing inside her. She wasn’t a stranger to the forest. She had sneak inside a lot of times before, even when she was still a kid. No. She shouldn’t. She had just successfully pushed her curiosity to the back of her mind and was about to find a place to sit when she saw a white cat with orange patches staring at her.

 

“Hello, there!” [Y/N] brightly greeted, beaming happily as it approaches her with a loud meow. “Are you hungry?” She quickly fumbled with her satchel, taking out the piece of fish from her bread, offering it to the cat. The cat sniffed the fish for a moment, eyes filled with judgment as it took a huge bite of the fish. She quietly watched the cat finished her fish in record time, smiling slightly once it was done eating, its face filled with pure bliss.

 

“I’ll tell Pietro he did good with the fish.” [Y/N] scratched its head. “Would you like to accompany me while I draw some flowers?”

 

The cat seemed to have other things in mind because it let out another loud meow and trudged into the forest. “You shouldn’t go there. There might be wolves.” [Y/N] warned and scrambled to gather her belongings when the cat kept walking into the forest, looking back at her occasionally.

 

“Do you want me to follow you?” [Y/N] tilted her head, realization coming to her the next second. “You have family inside, don’t you?” She softly asked. The cat let out another meow which she took a yes. Her steps were light as she slowly approached the forest, the coolness and shadows enticing her the deeper she ventures.

 

She didn’t quite realize how far she had been walking until she noticed it. The castle everyone had always talked about. It stood tall and proud amidst the wildflowers and twines that grew unrestrained, covering the walls surrounding the castle. If she was Peggy, she would have known that following the stony path that leads to the front gate was not a smart thing to do. She would have turned around, or better yet, she wouldn’t have been this deep inside the forest in the first place. But it was so beautiful and she couldn’t help but to gape at the view in front of her.

 

The cat’s meow snapped her out of her thoughts. It looked up at her and [Y/N] thought it might have even smiled as it clawed on the gate. All logic and reasoning seemed to have flown out of her head, because she decided to help push open the gate and let the cat guide her inside. It was empty anyway, [Y/N] thought as she wrapped the cloak around her a little tighter. Was it just her or was it really colder than the forest, despite the sunlight that reached the castle ground?

 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

 

She jumped, eyes wide with fear as she turned to the source of the voice. Her scream died on her throat the moment she met eyes with… a man? Stories from the old lady rang in her panic-ridden brain as she took in his appearance. From his dark brown hair that almost reached the collar of his shirt and his frosty blue eyes, to his imposing height and muscular build that would put the men in town to shame. He was so, so beautiful it almost made her forget about his question. She blinked a few times and took a step back, clutching her satchel and basket close to her chest.

 

“What the hell are _you_ doing here?” She asked, trying to calm her racing heart. “I thought this was an abandoned castle.”

 

He let out a long, tired sigh and glared at her. “I have lived here for the past century.”

 

That seemed to break her brain, because the last thing she remembered is the man shouting at her while trying to catch her from falling into the ground. And everything turned black.

 

.

“She’s an intruder!” [Y/N] frowned slightly as she slowly came back to consciousness. She still had her eyes closed, not quite woken up. The voice sounded familiar to her. Was it Pietro? Or maybe Tony?

 

“She didn’t mean to walk inside the castle! I’m not letting you kick her out, Buck!” _Buck? What kind of name is Buck?_ She fleetingly thought before opening her eyes slowly.

 

“More like can’t. She’s stuck with us.” That woke her up as quick as Tony’s black coffee in the morning.

 

“What do you mean ‘can’t’?” She whispered, her voice a little slurred.

 

There were things she expected when she opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. A beautiful man she was sure was an angel and his grumpy looking friend staring at her were definitely not in any of the scenarios she had imagined.

 

“You’re awake!” The angel smiled, taking the empty seat by the bed. He offered her a glass water, helping her to a sitting position as gently as he possibly could. “You passed out and almost hit your head on the pavement if it wasn’t for Butterscotch.” He continued, gesturing at the cat sleeping by her feet.

 

Everything slowly came back to her. The cat. Forest. Castle. The man _. Oh no_ –

 

“This is a dream.” She shook her head, panic and fear slowly rising in her as she flinched away from the man. She scrambled to her feet, pressing her back against the cool wall.

 

“Hey, you need to take a deep breath, okay?”

 

“And put down that vase. It’s antique.”

 

She blinked once before looking at her hand that was holding a violet vase tightly. “I-This– I need to go home.” She mumbled, tears brimming in her eyes. “I want to go home.”

 

“You can’t.” The one with long hair said, lips curved into a sad smile.

 

“What do you mean I can’t go home?!”

 

“Yeah, about that…” The blond man grimaced. “You kind of walked into a cursed ground and now you’re stuck just like us.”

 

[Y/N] passed out for the second time in three hours.

 

.

 

“Well that’s one way to calm her down. Good job, Steve.”

 

“You need to tone that sarcasm down a thousand notches, Bucky. She’s scared and in shock.”

 

“She took it better than that weird guy who jumped out of the window after trying to kill us.” Bucky gazed out of the tall window that lead to the balcony of his room. He sighed, glancing at the unconscious woman on the bed and Butterscotch, who seemed unperturbed by the event. She was purring loudly as she curled her body next to the woman. He knew Steve had been a little worried she was one of those scavengers or treasure hunters when he walked in with her in his arms. But a look at her satchel and the notebook he found inside said otherwise and Bucky didn’t know if he should feel better or worse. “Her family will be looking for her.” Bucky said a moment later.

 

“Do you think they will understand?” Steve quietly asked while flipping through her notebook. It was filled with drawings of flowers and some forest critters, her art skill at par with Steve’s. He looked up from the book. “Maybe we should ask Natasha for help? I’m sure she’ll be less intimidating than us.”

 

Bucky silently nodded and Steve took it as a cue to leave the room, ignoring the exasperated look his friend gave at his slight bow. The door closed with a click before Bucky could say anything. A force of habit, Steve would say every time Bucky scolded him. It had been a century and Bucky was starting to think that Steve was just doing this because he was a little shit.

 

His eyes went back to the view out of the windows, his smile slowly melting away. There was a time when he longed to be out, to turn a deaf ear to the curse that never stopped ringing in his ears, and to just walk out of this god forsaken castle. He could still remember the first time he tried to step out of the castle, still thinking it was all just one elaborate prank. It ended with him writhing in pain for a week, his skin felt like it was alight with fire and he found himself begging the Gods to end his life while Steve lay unconscious on the bed next to his (because he was _that_ friend who would risk his life to save him). Natasha, general of the royal army, had a very interesting choice of words for both of them once they woke up, her green eyes blazing with frustration and grief.

 

_“Never do that again.” She hissed and Bucky would’ve seen the tears in her eyes if he weren’t in so much pain. The orphaned girl the stableman found scavenging for food, and soon adopted into the royal family, had lost her filter sometime along the way, not that he was complaining. She only calmed down when her general, touched her arm and whispered something to her ear._

 

The silence started to make way for his guilt. He sat down on the empty chair and twirled the hem of his shirt as he leaned back on the seat. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this mess. You seem like a nice person and you don’t deserve any of this.” Bucky took a deep breath before he continued, “I’ll– I’ll try to find a way for you to talk to your family. A letter or anything… Maybe Butterscotch can help deliver the mail. She’s the only one who can leave the castle ground.” He chuckled at how incredulous it sounded. “Don’t ask me how or why. I think she likes you a lot.”

 

“You have a knack for giving people headaches, did you know that?” The door made a loud creaking sound as a redhead entered the room, the heels of her boots clicking against the marble floor. Bucky managed to hide his surprise when Natasha, in a shirt and pair of trousers that would make his mother cry, walked towards the end of the bed, eyes fixed on the unconscious woman. “She’s pretty.”

 

“She’s also cursed.”

 

“You want me to talk to her?” Natasha jutted her chin at the direction of the woman. “Don’t you think Sam would be a better choice?”

 

“Sam is busy with his magic chicken.”

 

“That magic _falcon_ ,” Natasha rolled her eyes, “is the only way we can communicate with the witches.” She slumped down on the soft couch near the window, her expression unreadable. “The sun will set in a few hours and I don’t doubt her family will be looking for her. Why don’t you go to Sam and write the witch a letter, so that she can let her family know what happened? I’ll wait for her to wake up and tell her about the curse.”

 

Bucky’s hands stilled. He hated this. How did one tell a family their beloved daughter is cursed to live in the castle for eternity? He was about to come up with a retort but the look Natasha gave her made him think better. Natasha seemed like she would actually kick him out of his own room so he gritted his teeth, ignoring the slight ache on his left shoulder that always appeared whenever he was stressed, and walked out of the room.

 

.

 

When [Y/N] opened her eyes, there was a woman sitting by the bed, staring at her with her arms crossed in front of her chest. A quick swipe around the room indicated the previous two men had left the room, leaving her along with another stranger. The woman seemed to take pity on her state because she got up from her seat to help her to a sitting position before she said anything.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

“[Y/N]. And who are you?” [Y/N] slowly asked.

 

“You can call me Natasha.” The woman, Natasha, replied with a tart smile. “General of the royal army. I take it you have a lot of questions. And no, you cannot leave this place.”

 

[Y/N] frowned. “Why?”

 

“The curse. What do you know about the cursed castle?”

 

Her mind fleetingly wondered to the stories Peggy told her earlier. “The old lady in town said the prince was cursed after he tried to kill his bride on their wedding day and his friends were also cursed for trying to help him? There are more stories about this place. Werewolves, vampires, witches that kill children.”

 

“It was the other way around.” Natasha cut her off. At [Y/N]’s confused expression, she continued, “it wasn’t the prince who tried to commit a murder. It was the princess. She planned on killing the royal family to rule the kingdom. She took control of the prince’s mind. But the prince stopped her and she put a curse on him and his loyal friends who tried to stop her.”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

 

“Evil doings usually don’t.” Natasha smiled, leaning back on the chair while her gaze went to the view of the forest. “Long story short, we were cursed to never be able to leave the castle ground and to live for eternity in loneliness and I forgot the rest of her speech. She mentioned that all others who dare to enter the castle ground would be cursed to never leave as well.”

 

“What happened if I leave?”

 

“Pain, suffering, most probably death. We’re not so sure. You’re the first person who willingly walked inside the castle.” Natasha shrugged, turning to her with a pointed look. “A very stupid decision, really. Why would you follow a cat into a supposedly abandoned castle? Did no one tell you about trespassing?”

 

“I thought she had a litter of kitten or something. I was just going to give them some food and leave.” [Y/N] looked down, voice so low it was barely audible. “I really can’t leave?”

 

“I’m sorry.” Natasha shook her head. “You can send a letter to your family, if you want. Sam could get his falcon to deliver your letter to the witch or your family.”

 

[Y/N] sniffled a little. Natasha waited for her to start crying or lash out, like what Steve had feared when he came to her. But she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand before looking up at Natasha, eyes red with fresh tears, her lips pressed into a tight line. “Yes. That would be nice. Thank you, Natasha.”

 

Natasha nodded. “Come on, then. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the family.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smile made him look a lot younger, she noticed, feeling her face heat up a little at the revelation. “You’ll have to get in line for that.” He said with a grin, oblivious to the slight flush of her face.
> 
> “Well, I have time.” She replied, looking away from his eyes.

_Dear Peggy,_

_If this letter finds you, I hope you know that I am well and I am sorry for not listening to you. I hope you also know it wasn’t anyone’s fault (maybe mine, for being so foolish). I should probably start from the beginning..._

_…The old lady was right. The place is cursed and I may not be able to return home. I thought it was a prank until I tried to stick my hand out of the gate. I almost passed out from the pain. I’m sorry, Peggy._

_I don’t know how long I’ll be stuck here. Natasha said it might be for forever. I hope they can break the curse and let me go home and see you again…_

_The good news is that the people here seem pretty nice. Natasha is a general of the Royal Army, even though she said it’s an outdated title, considering they don’t have any army. She reminded me of you. I was also introduced to Steve. He’s the most beautiful specimen I have ever seen in my entire life. I thought I was in heaven when I woke up and saw his face. The painting of angels we saw at the museum last year? He was ten times more beautiful than that. I bet you’ll like him. He’s EXACTLY your type. Beautiful, slightly reckless (I saw him trying to jump from the second floor), and looks like the golden retriever Tony and Pepper owns. There’s also Clint. He’s a little weird. He’s supposed to be some kind of commander but I think he just likes Natasha a lot. He also likes his arrow a little too much. And then there’s Sam. He’s very nice too. He has a magical falcon and he lets me borrow him so I can send this letter to you–_

 

“No mention of me? I’m hurt.” [Y/N] jumped at the voice behind her. She let out a slight shriek and turned around, only to find the menace called Bucky looming behind her with a smirk on his face. [Y/N] rolled her eyes and grabbed the pen she dropped. She ignored his presence and continued to finish the last bit of her letter.

 

_There’s one more person. Bucky. He’s a weird guy. He claims to be a prince but I’m not sure._

 

“Hey!”

 

“It’s my letter!” [Y/N] hissed when he tried to grab the paper.

 

_Natasha (the only sane person in this place) said you can visit me if you want, but you can’t step inside the castle ground. I really am sorry._

_Love, your sister_

_[Y/N]_

 

“That’s just biased.”

 

“It’s a very objective opinion. I like Natasha. She’s nice.” [Y/N] huffed, folding the letter to fit inside the envelope Sam gave her earlier. “Why are you here?”

 

Bucky looked at little nervous at her question and she thought she saw a slight blush dusting his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“I wanted to see if you’re okay.” He said after a long beat of silence. “I know it’s not an easy thing to accept. Natasha said you didn’t cry or anything and it… it’s more worrisome, I guess.” He finished, eyes darting back and forth between the letter and her eyes. “Are you?”

 

“I’m not.” [Y/N] honestly replied with a sigh. “The sun has set and I’m sure my sister is worried sick. I can’t hug her and tell her it’ll be okay. I can’t go home and watch her experiment with food anymore. I can’t see her punch sleazy drunk guys anymore.”

 

“You seem very calm.” Bucky commented as he sat on the empty space next to her.

 

“Being angry at everyone seems a little pointless. No one really wants to stay here. It’s not your fault and the reality still hasn’t sunk in completely,” she shrugged, “I do want to punch the witch that put this stupid curse.”

 

That made him chuckle. The smile made him look a lot younger, she noticed, feeling her face heat up a little at the revelation. “You’ll have to get in line for that.” He said with a grin, oblivious to the slight flush of her face.

 

“Well, I have time.” She replied, looking away from his eyes.

 

“You know, you’re not as weird as I thought you were.” [Y/N] commented as she stood up and brushed away some leaves from her skirt.

 

“So, are you going to revise the letter, then?

 

“No.”

 

“Come on!”

 

.

 

Early evening found her in a huge guest room and a few sets of clean clothes courtesy of Natasha. Natasha mentioned it was a little small and apologized. [Y/N] was too stunned to really say anything in return. It was bigger than her flower shop, the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom the size of her bedroom at home. There was a large bed in the middle of the room, placed against the wall to her right. A beautiful vanity table sat against the wall to her left, a few feet away from the window that lead to a small balcony. The carpet under the bed felt soft against her feet when she finally sat down on the mattress, drawing a soft sigh from her lips. Her attention went to the stack of clothes Natasha had left earlier. Most of them were tunics and leggings, though she managed to find a dress with long poet sleeves amongst them in the color of the night sky and a plain white nightgown. She mentally thanked Natasha for lending clean undergarments, making a note to write to her sister later so she could bring her clothes from home. She glanced at the bathroom, the prospect of having a long hot bath making her shiver in anticipation.

 

“[Y/N]?” Maybe she spoke too soon.

 

She set down the nightgown on the bed and walked over to the door, twisting the knob open. Bucky Barnes, the prince himself, greeted her with an awkward smile.

 

“Do you want to have dinner with us?” Her stomach growled at the mention of food.

 

“I take that as a yes?” Bucky bit back a chuckle.

 

“Yes. Dinner would be nice.”

 

“Let’s go then. The others are waiting for you.” He offered his hand, lips still curled into a smile. It was just a simple gesture, really. But it had been a very long day and she was tired and hungry and needed a lot of sleep and a long hug. [Y/N] couldn’t stop the tiny whimper that escaped her lips. Bucky appeared to have noticed it, because he leaned down to her height, his warm hands resting on her shoulders as he struggled to come up with comforting words.

 

“Are you okay?” His voice was so soft it just made her tear up more. Her quiet sniffles soon turned into sobs that startled him. “Please don’t cry.” Bucky begged.

 

“I want to go home.” She cried, wiping the tears away with the sleeve of her dress. “I’m tired. I can’t do this. I’m not… I just want to feed the cat. Why do I have to stay?” [Y/N] knew she probably sounded like a five-year-old child throwing a tantrum, but she couldn’t care less. She needed her sister and the warmth of her small, humble home.

 

“I’m sorry.” Bucky whispered, hesitantly pulling her into a comforting hug. The pain in his left shoulder came back and Bucky stood quietly while she sobbed, the sound of her cries twisted his heart like sharp knives.

 

By the time he went back to the dining room, his white shirt had a small patch of tears near his chest and he looked like he was about to cry. Sam and Clint, who were about to made a comment on his tardiness, paused at Bucky’s face. It was Steve who noticed his somber mood, flashing him a small smile when Bucky took the seat next to him.

 

“Everything okay?”

 

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand and sighed. “She’s a little tired. We should probably set aside some bread and milk for her in case she gets hungry. Can you bring it to her room later, Natasha?”

 

“Of course.” Natasha nodded, noting the tiredness in her friend’s voice.

 

.

 

“It’s not your fault.” Steve said, walking into Bucky’s room, eyes hard with conviction. “It’s not.” He repeated.

 

Bucky only nodded quietly as he changed his shirt. “It is, though. I picked the wrong princess.”

 

“You thought you loved her. That wasn’t your fault. She even put you under her spell.” Steve insisted. “[Y/N] is tired. This is only her first day. You can’t expect her to accept it without any fuss, Buck. But that doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

 

Bucky shrugged, clearly not accepting anything other than blame and the guilt he had been shouldering for the past century.

 

“It’s not your fault.” Steve repeated before he huffed in annoyance and left the room.

 

.

 

Peggy Carter was a strong woman. She didn’t take any shit when Joe from the bar tried to hit on her. She punched Ivan when he refused to leave her alone. She didn’t cry when her sister didn’t come back from her little adventure. She went to the town leader and demand a search. She ignored the weird looks she got from her neighbors when she told them her sister was missing, not running away. She was a brave woman through and through. She didn’t even scream when a falcon landed on her windowsill with a letter on its leg a week after her sister disappeared.

 

But then she read the letter, recognizing the all-too-familiar handwriting, and Peggy couldn’t help but break down in tears. It was the first time she felt so lost and angry and relieved. The falcon perched itself near her, as if trying to comfort her.

 

“I suppose I’ll have to go there and demand my sister back, right?” She said to the falcon, who only tilted its head. “Maybe I should go to the old lady first. See if she can help me with this… problem.”

 

That was how she found herself standing in the middle of grandmother Monica’s living room an hour later, eyes scanning the room in curiosity while the old woman took a seat on the small couch. Grandmother Monica was a black woman with bright wise eyes and a kind smile. She had been the town’s healer for decades, and her mother and grandmother decades before her. Peggy and Wanda had talked about her the other day, believing she was more of a witch than a simple town healer.

 

“You’re looking for your sister.” Grandmother Monica said to her.

 

“How–“

 

“The falcon told me. You can’t get her back. Not unless the curse is broken.” She shook her head sadly.

 

“They can’t just hold her there against her wish!” Peggy insister, anger surging inside her the more she thought about her sister.

 

But Grandmother Monica didn’t flinch at the intensity of her voice. She only smiled, offering her a glass of hot tea. “You think they want to, child? The north witch, Sin, had put a curse on that castle ground.”

 

“There must be a way to break the curse.”

 

“Some says a true soulmate will break it.” Grandmother Monica said as she gently pet the falcon. “Other says they have to kill the witch.”

 

“Where’s the witch?”

 

“She disappeared after my grandmother tried to help remove the curse.” The old woman said. “It didn’t work but it gives them a little protection from the witch.”

 

“Tell me how to find her.”

 

.

 

“Have you seen [Y/N]?” Natasha asked him the moment Bucky reached the dining hall for breakfast.

 

“She’s not in her room?” He frowned. In the past week they had known her, she had never once missed her breakfast.

 

“No. Clint is looking for her right now.” Natasha shook her head. “The servants mentioned a woman walking out of the castle at dawn. We think it was her.”

 

She should be fine, he thought to himself. The castle might be big but it wasn’t as big as the main palace in the capital. Steve thought so too as well, adding a comment on her need to be alone and undisturbed. Bucky tried to ignore the uneasy feeling in his chest and finished his breakfast in silence. He had other things to do, he reminded himself. She would be fine.

 

.

 

[Y/N] was not fine at all.

 

She hadn’t been able to sleep the past week, finally opting to leave the castle for a walk when she found herself still awake at dawn. It was supposed to be a short walk. She had brought her notebook and pen, hoping to find a place she could sit and draw. She surveyed the unfamiliar area at the far edge of the castle ground. There was a wooden pier that lead to a small lake. A small boat tied to one of the pole and [Y/N], with her sad laden mind, decided it would be a good idea to get into the boat.

 

That was four hours ago and she was still stuck in the middle of the lake, the paddles had sunk when she tried to turn the boat around. She was freezing in her nightgown and thin robes. Her stomach had been grumbling loudly the past hour, begging her to find something to eat. She regretted not going to dinner last night, memories of her breaking down in front of Bucky last week made her heart thump a little faster in embarrassment. And a little bit of guilt. She had been pretending nothing had happened for the past week. She swore to apologize to him if she ever made it out of this lake alive, maybe gift him with a drawing of flowers she found on the garden yesterday.

 

On the bright side, the view was breathtaking. She could see the castle and the garden from the lake, her hand itching to sketch it down. But she had run out of ink an hour ago so she just had to memorize every single detail so she could draw it later. She laid down on the boat, squinting her eyes at the sun that didn’t seem to warm the land at all. _Was it the curse_ , she wondered, raising her arms towards the sky, hoping to feel a little bit of warmth.

 

On the fifth hour, she started to get restless and a little dizzy from hunger and dehydration. She could barely scream with the little energy she had left. And she tried to use her hands as paddles, hoping it could take her close enough to the short. It was the most futile attempt that did nothing but drain her energy.

 

The sixth hour found her crying again as she called Bucky’s name between her sobs. It was pathetic. Even she thought she was pathetic. Peggy would’ve laughed at her, she thought, the waterworks not stopping even when she started to hiccup. She couldn’t even swim. Why did she even bother going to the lake and rowing herself off the shore.

 

On the seventh hour, she swore she had started to hallucinate. She saw Bucky waving at her from the pier. Her hand went up to wave back. She staggered to her feet, the boat swaying dangerously to the sides. “BUCKY!” She smiled widely. Her hallucination looked scared and she was about to ask what was wrong when she tilted too far to the left, tipping the boat over and went straight into the cold lake.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think! 
> 
> comments, kudos, bookmarks are greatly appreciated ! I hope you enjoy it <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The look on Steve’s face reminded her too much of her sister, which was a little hypocritical of him since [Y/N] knew he had little to no self-preservation (he jumped from the window just to scare Clint two days ago, almost breaking his neck in the process). He crossed his arms and continued to glare at her while she tried to finish a bowl of porridge. Her hair was still damp but she had changed into a thick, long-sleeved nightgown that Natasha owned. Bucky was seated on the couch, eyes glancing between [Y/N] and Steve.

Steve mentioned her disappearance at lunch and it was all it took for Bucky to leave the room and went on a search of his own. Clint had searched the east ground and no one saw her inside the castle. There was no way she went to the farming area. The servants would’ve noticed her. So he made his way towards the most likely place she could be.

 

And there she was.

 

Crying. On a boat. In the middle of the lake.

 

The paddles floating near the shore.

 

Bucky let out a long sigh.

 

“[Y/N]!” He called out her name, waving his hands to get her attention. She sat up quickly at his voice, her eyes widening adorably and he would’ve cooed at her if she didn’t stand up and waved back, tipping the boat over.

 

“Oh shit.” Bucky cursed, jumping into the lake when he realized she had been flailing her arms, struggling to stay afloat.

 

.

 

“I’m going to die.” She cried, latching into Bucky as she gasped for breath.

 

“You’re not.”

 

“I am. I’m still young. I haven’t even kissed a guy yet. I don’t want to die in a lake. I haven’t told Butterscotch I love her.” She rambled, arms wrapped around his neck so tightly it almost choked him.

 

“We’re going to die if you don’t stop choking me.” Bucky grumbled as he swam back to the shore with her on his back.

 

It took them awhile to get to land and when they did, Bucky thought his arms were going to fall off. He could barely feel his legs with how cold the water is. He laid down on the grass, panting for breath.

 

“Are you okay?” He asked after a while. In hindsight, he should’ve noticed it when she stopped crying in the middle of the lake. He felt his heart fall to his stomach when he saw her curled next to him with eyes closed. “Hey. Wake up.” He shook her gently.

 

“I‘m hungry.” She mumbled. She moved a little closer to him, shivering lightly when he tried to sit up.

 

He dropped back to the grass, sighing for the tenth time though his hand didn’t leave hers. “We should head back to the castle before you get sick. Can you get on your feet?”

 

She shook her head, opening her eyes a little. “Can’t you carry me. I’m really tired.”

 

“No way. You have two functioning feet. Use them. I’m not going to carry you back to the castle after I saved you from drowning.”

 

.

 

Natasha raised her eyebrows in amusement at the sight of Bucky carrying [Y/N] in his arms, both drenched from head to toe.

 

“Had a little date?”

 

“Shut up.” Bucky grumbled and looked down exasperatedly. “I can’t believe she fell asleep. I had to carry her from the lake.”

 

“That… was nice of you.”

 

Bucky didn’t know how to respond to that or to the way Natasha looked at him. He could sense himself blushing under her assessing eyes. He took a deep breath and gestured towards the door down the hallway with his chin. “I’m going to take her back to her room. You should probably help change her into some dry clothes and tell the cook to make something warm for her.” He didn’t bother to see Natasha’s face and continued to walk to [Y/N]’s room.

 

“Huh.” Was the only thing she said before she trailed behind him.

 

.

 

The look on Steve’s face reminded her too much of her sister, which was a little hypocritical of him since [Y/N] knew he had little to no self-preservation (he jumped from the window just to scare Clint two days ago, almost breaking his neck in the process). He crossed his arms and continued to glare at her while she tried to finish a bowl of porridge. Her hair was still damp but she had changed into a thick, long-sleeved nightgown that Natasha owned. Bucky was seated on the couch, eyes glancing between [Y/N] and Steve.

 

“Are you…mad?” She asked, looking up at his best friend with wide eyes that almost melted Bucky’s heart. _Almost_.

 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and started to pace around the room. “You… you got on a boat and lost the paddles.”

 

“I didn’t mean to.” [Y/N] mumbled, scooping a spoonful of porridge into her mouth. Butterscotch, her new sidekick, purred a little at her feet, eyes glaring at Steve as if challenging him to a fight. Steve looked at the cat pointedly before he turned back to [Y/N].

 

“I have been here for a hundred years and no one had this accident, [Y/N].”

 

“Glad to be the first.”

 

“She’s fine, Steve.” Bucky interrupted, biting back a smile. “I saved her!”

 

Steve ignored Bucky and whirled around to face her again. “You can’t even swim. YOU COULD HAVE DIED.”

 

“Why are you being so dramatic? I’m okay, Steve.”

 

“Jesus, it’s like talking to two toddlers.” Steve sighed again. He was probably going to die because of stress, not because of the curse at this point.

 

“One word: Rooftop.” Steve said, smiling triumphantly when [Y/N] groaned in embarrassment.

 

“Bucky said it was safe!”

 

“I DID NOT!” Bucky gasped in mock horror. The rooftop incident happened two days after she got here. He was just trying to cheer her up, telling her about the view from the roof of a particular part of the castle and how they could get there by climbing the walls. Needless to say, both of them almost fell down the tower and died a gruesome death if it weren’t for Natasha and Clint, who happened to be patrolling along the area. Bucky still remembered the gleeful expression on her face when they pulled her up from the side of the tower, the light, airy laugh she let out when he escorted her back to her room, and the small smile before she said good night. It stayed with him, comforted him during his nightmares, a talisman for the pain he had to suffer. The smile that appeared on his face at the thought went unnoticed by Steve, who just gave him a weird look.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing. You look happy.” Steve shrugged. “Try not to die again, please. You’ve only been here for a week, [Y/N].”

 

“I’ll try.” [Y/N] nodded solemnly, stirring the leftover porridge with her spoon.

 

“Good. Because I have a surprise for you outside.” Steve’s face broke into a smile. “Get Bucky to carry you once you’re done eating your porridge.”

 

“I am not going to carry her!”

 

.

 

Peggy waited nervously in front of the tall gate. Grandmother Monica had told her to never take a step inside the castle or she would be stuck there. She tightened her hold on the basket of [Y/N]’s favorite food. There was a faint voice coming from inside the castle and she froze once the door opened. Her sister was on a man’s back. She was wearing a winter night gown, wet hair covering half her face as she laughed at something the other man said. Then her eyes went to the front gate and met hers.

 

“Peggy?” Peggy heard her whisper, eyes widening as she tried to get on her feet, stumbling a little as she ran towards her. “PEGGY!”

 

“Hey, munchkin.” Peggy smiled through her tears, reaching her hand through the gaps of the gate to touch her cheek. “What happened to you?”

 

“I’m sorry.” [Y/N] started to cry, holding her sister’s hand tightly.

 

“You were right.” Peggy whispered, voice croaky with tears. [Y/N] looked at her in confusion before she noticed where Peggy’s gaze had landed on. A giggle escaped her lips. “He does look like an angel.”

 

“He’s a nice guy, Peggy. Everyone is really nice here.”

 

“And the grumpy guy is too? The weird one?”

 

“Especially him.”

 

Peggy studied Bucky who was standing not far from them for a moment and nodded. It was a friendly enough gesture that Steve and Bucky decided to approach them. “Hello.”

 

“Grandmother Monica told me about what happened.” Peggy said, cutting them off. She smiled at the recognition that flashed across their face and continued, “I’m sorry you have to go through this. I will help you find the witch and kill her.”

 

Bucky looked touched. He nodded gratefully and extended his hand for her to shake. “I know you don’t have to. But thank you.”

 

“I will need you to help me with any clues you’ve gathered so far.”

 

“Steve can help you with those. We don’t have much but we hope it could help.”

 

Steve nodded. “I will gather the files. But now, you should spend some time with your sister.”

 

.

 

The month went by almost too quickly. [Y/N] found herself adjusting to her new life at the castle, conspiring together with Clint to prank people, getting scolded by Natasha after she tried to teach Butterscotch to climb the wall (she found out Butterscotch was indeed a Princess, the next heiress in line, that day), going out to the garden to draw with Steve, hanging out with Sam and his precious Falcon, and spending most of her free time with Bucky. She still didn’t know much about him, she realized after he had to leave her to do some work. It didn’t sit well with her for some unknown reasons.

 

“What does he do?” She asked Sam that afternoon during her visit to the aviary. Sam only looked at her with his patented ‘I don’t know what you’re up to’ stare and waited for her to elaborate. “I mean, what does Bucky do? He seems so busy…” She shrugged, trying to hide the blush from her friend.

 

“He’s a Prince.” Sam replied slowly, eyebrows raised in amusement at the obvious flush on her cheeks. “The Kingdom on the south has knowledge of these… circumstances. And they decided to help us out. We work together with them. Bucky… he has to deal with some papers and regulations and some boring stuff.”

 

“But he can’t be that busy, can’t he?” [Y/N] pouted as she stared at the forest. Peggy mentioned she would be back next week after her visit to the south. She missed her sister. She would know what to say to help ease her nerve.

 

Sam only shrugged. “Maybe the curse thing is getting on his nerves. And some other stuff.”

 

“What other stuff?” [Y/N] turned to him. Sam shook his head in slight exasperation.

 

“Nothing, you dense little bird.”

 

.

 

Despite the somewhat traumatic incident at the lake, [Y/N] still found herself drawn to it like a moth to a bright flame. Bucky was always with her whenever she visited the lake, lounging with a book or an apple, eager to listen to her stories. She loved telling him stories about lives outside the castle. Sometimes his gaze would turn a little sad and he would press his lips into a tight smile if she asked him if he was okay. He always said yes, despite the obvious pain in his eyes. She would just nod and rest her hand on his, hoping it could comfort him even for just a little.

 

“Walk with me to the lake?” Bucky startled her, his fond smile caused butterflies to rage in her stomach. She looked up from the book she had been reading and nodded. Her joints made a slight cracking sound as she stretched her body. Her mother would have cried to see her like this but Bucky didn’t seem to mind. He looked rather amused by her, if she didn’t know any better.

 

“This is new.” She commented as she walked by him along the stony path. She gazed down at their hands. Bucky had looked a little sheepish at her comment, smiling a little when she stopped him from pulling away. “It’s nice.”

 

“It is.” He agreed. The silence that came was comforting. She let him take the lead, the cold wind that used to bite into her skin now felt more like a breeze. They passed the garden, still green with splashes of colorful weird flowers that she couldn’t name, then the side of a crop field, the vegetables and fruit growing faster than it normally would. The stone path ended abruptly in front the tiny forest that Bucky swore hid some treasure. It didn’t take them long to reach the other side of the forest that was mostly just a cluster of trees huddled together to act as a divider. And there it was.

 

The lake.

 

There was a blanket spread out near the lakefront. A basket of bread sat nicely with a bottle of wine in the middle of the blanket and there was a small box on the side, neatly wrapped with brown paper. Bucky gave her hand a little tug and steered her towards the picnic blanket.

 

“Steve said you would like this kind of gift.” He started nervously, rubbing the back of his head as he gestured at the box. [Y/N] sat on the blanket, her skirt pooling around her as she took the box onto her lap. She carefully peeled away the paper wrapping and Bucky waited with bated breath.

 

“Oh.” She softly gasped. It was a new sketchbook, one that she knew cost a lot more than the notebook she used. He also gave her a set of charcoal pencils, a high quality one, judging from the brand on the box. “Thank you, Bucky. I love it.” Her voice came out in a whisper.

 

He let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and quickly sat on the other side of the blanket. “I was going to throw Steve into the lake if you hated it.” He joked, ripping off a piece of brown bread.

 

“Maybe I should’ve lied instead.” [Y/N] grinned, the quiet moment gone, replaced with an oddly comforting laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So?? How was it so far?
> 
> I'm still new with this fantasy-is genre so pls let me know what you think!
> 
> And thank you for the kudos/comments, etc!! <3 <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is just a dream.” [Y/N] muttered to herself, squeezing her eyes shut.
> 
>  
> 
> “Is it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the light(?) angst !
> 
> anyway, thank you for reading this fic! 
> 
> please let me know what you think? :)

Bucky loved to watch her draw. Steve was always quiet when he drew, the world seemed to melt away the moment he picked up his pencils. Sometimes he would look up and shake his head to lose the crick in his neck but he would be back in his own world in no time, filling the pages with drawings so beautiful it made his heart hurt. But she was different. She was a chaotic mess, fiddling with different pencils, hands dirtied by the charcoal as she smudged out something on the paper. Her animated eyes darted between every object around her every so often, lips curling into a satisfied smile when she finished a drawing. And she talked to him a lot. She would clutch the end of the book with her left hand and draw with her right, eyes focused on the paper, and still she would look up every once in a while and pause just to animate her stories with hand gestures.

 

“It would be exactly 100 years since the witch put the curse next week.” Bucky offhandedly mentioned as he sipped on his wine. His left arm ached again. It had worsened the past week, he noticed, and so had the nightmares. He pushed back the irrational fear to back of his mind and focused his attention on [Y/N] who was seated on the other side of the blanket.

 

Unlike Steve, who let Bucky go through his drawing book, [Y/N] never let him take a little peek. The only drawing he had seen was the flowers she drew him as an apology weeks ago (it was framed and found a permanent spot on the table next to his bed).

 

“What are you drawing?” Bucky asked, frowning when she leaned the book away from his sight.

 

“Flowers. The lake.” She quipped.

 

“You can’t be drawing the lake the whole time.” He didn’t care that he sounded like a whiny toddler asking for an extra serving of his favorite jelly. He scooted closer, ignoring the fluttery feeling in his stomach, and nudged her shoulder with his finger.

 

“Are you a child?” [Y/N] sighed. “I told you it’s a secret.”

 

“But I want to see it.” Bucky was sporting the puppy-eyed look Steve always flashed whenever she tried to say no to whatever scheme he was planning. “I’ll give you the last piece of bread?” He asked, still trying to get his hands on the stupid sketchbook. So she did the first thing that come to her mind. She threw it a few feet away from them, away from Bucky who pouted in disappointment.

 

“Can’t I see just one drawing?”

 

“I’ll let you see the ones in my old notebook.” [Y/N] finally said, patting his thigh before standing up to grab the sketchbook she had thrown to the grass in panic.

 

Maybe she stood up too quickly, or maybe she was just that bad with her balance and coordination, because the next thing she knew, she was falling face first into the ground and would have smack her face against the boulder and ruined the makeup and hair that she definitely didn’t do to impress Bucky if he didn’t pull her back. Both of them ended up toppling on the blanket, the wine sloshed to the blanket.

 

When she opened her eyes again, she was laying on top of him and he was staring at her with an unreadable expression. His eyes were soft and fond as always but there was something else, something she couldn’t quite decipher and he had his hand gently brushing away the hair that went to her face. She thought she could kiss him right now, when he had his lips quirked into a small tender smile that had secretly wormed its way into her heart.

 

“You’re the worst.” Bucky huffed a fond laugh, his other hand still planted on her back. She grinned at him and Bucky’s laughter died on his throat. The sunlight served as a perfect backlight for her, making her look more incandescent than she already was. If he just leaned in a little bit closer, he thought as he gazed down to her lips. He could just kiss her and maybe tell her about his feelings. Right when he was about to lean in, his eyes caught the spilled wine, the red reminding him of the blood that stained the royal chapel and the color of _her_ dress.

 

_“Look at what you have done, love.” Her honeyed voice felt like sharp knives against his heart. His head was hurting. She placed her hand on his cheek and went on her tiptoes to kiss the corner of his lips. “This was all you.” Her red lips stretched into a wicked smile._

_“No.” Bucky shook his head, his breathing ragged. He smelled blood and death. He blinked a few times, praying for his sight to be wrong. “No.”_

_“BUCKY. THIS ISN’T YOU!” Steve shouted._

_“Why don’t you end them too?” She purred, her sharp nails made crescent marks on his neck. “Maybe I will let you live for another week, love. Then, I will take over this kingdom. All thanks to your love and dedication-“_

 

“Bucky?”

 

“NO!” Bucky wrenched himself away from her, profusely blinking away the tears. He retched at the memories. It took him a few deep breaths and a soft voice calling his name to take him back.

 

“Bucky?” He looked to his side and his heart dropped at the sight. He must’ve pushed her too hard. There was trail of blood seeping through the sleeve of her dress from when she hit the boulder behind her. She looked shaken, hands trembling as she tried to approach him.

 

“No.” Bucky shook his head. “Don’t.” He stopped her before she could touch his left arm. It felt like it was burning. He swallowed back the tears and stammered, “I’m sorry,” before he staggered to his feet and ran off.

 

.

 

Clint Barton found [Y/N] that night crying by the lake. He would’ve thought it was a ghost if he had drank an extra glass of the liquor King T’challa sent them yesterday. He cleared his throat to let her know of his presence and slowly approached her. Whatever questions he had in his mind vaporized when he saw dried blood on her arms.

 

“What happened?” He asked her. He knew what had happened. Bucky was running down the hall, knocking everything in his way and locked himself inside his room. Steve told them it was another flashback and he accidentally pushed her. She was probably terrified of him, Steve relayed Bucky’s words with a frustrated look. But the look [Y/N] gave him made him think twice about why she was crying.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“I don’t know.” She shrugged.

 

“Do you want to talk?” Clint sat next to her, pushing away the glasses and empty basket. She had her knees tucked into her chest, face buried in her arms and Clint wondered if she would ever talk to him.

 

“My heart hurts.” She mumbled. She raised her head and turned to him with a broken smile. “He left.”

 

“He did. He was scared.”

 

“Of what?”

 

“Himself.” Clint answered a beat later. He turned to her. “There were things that happened to him, that were done to him that day. It was…It didn’t just go away, even after decades or a hundred years. I can’t tell you what, because this is not my story to tell. But I know he cares about you more than you think. And he’s scared.”

 

“I’m tired.” [Y/N] quietly said. “I’m going to go back to the castle.”

 

Clint nodded quietly as he watched her picked up her book and pencils. He waited for her to compose herself, offering a piece of handkerchief to wipe her face.

 

“Thank you.” She smiled. It was hollow and insincere. But Clint didn’t say anything. He just let her lead the way back to the castle and bid her a soft good night when they reached her room.

 

It was funny how things could go from great to not-so-great, awfully disastrous in a matter of seconds. She replayed the moment she ruined it over and over again as she closed the door and she climbed into her bed. She shouldn’t have called his name, or tried to touch his arm, she chastised herself. Tears welled up in her eyes again.

 

“Thank you for staying here.” She mumbled to the cat who had joined her in her bed. Butterscotch stared at her for a long moment before she walked over towards her and nudged her wet cheek with her head.

 

[Y/N] scratched Butterscotch’s head, her cries quieted down to an occasional sniffling while the cat lay down on her lap, letting her pet her until she fell asleep.

 

.

 

[Y/N] was not a stranger of nightmares. She had her fair share of nightmares when her parents passed away and even during the first few days in the castle, fear overriding her brain. It was usually just her, trying to run from a shadowed figure and she would wake up hours later with her heart racing like she just ran a marathon, the details of the dream soon washed away by the cool water.

 

It was different this time. She found herself kneeling on the marbled floor of her room and she could sense a presence behind her.

 

_“Hello there.”_

 

She felt the burning pain even before it stepped into her view and touched the sharp end of her staff to her heart. It burned through her skin and straight into her heart. She fleetingly noticed it had glowed bright blue and wondered if this was how she was going to die. All cries for help stuck in her throat, her eyes filled with unshed tears as she looked up at _her_.

 

Oh, she was beautiful. That was the first thing that came to her mind when she saw her face. No wonder Bucky fell in love with her. She’d fall in love with her if she didn’t see her in this state. Her long wavy hair flowed down to her waist. She had blood red lipstick on her lips, her eyebrows arched as though she could read her mind.

 

 _“Trying to steal what’s mine?”_ Her voice was shrill and high-pitched enough to hurt her ears. Her long nails were like talons when it grabbed her chin harshly, forcing her to look at her. “ _I have been giving him warnings. But he keeps ignoring it. Boys, right?”_ She giggled, _“I suppose I have to kill you first. Maybe he’ll realize he could never stop obeying my command.”_

 

“Fuck off.” [Y/N] said between gasps.

 

 _“Oh, I like you a lot!”_ The woman laughed again, pressing her staff a little deeper into her chest. “ _The heart of his true love. I could be sated for another century if I could just get your heart. Maybe his too, because I will make sure he knows who he belongs to.”_

 

“He’s not that stupid.” [Y/N] grumbled blocking the fall with her arms when the woman pushed her away.

 

She only looked at her with a look that sent shivers down her spine. Her eyes gleamed wickedly under the moonlight. _“We’ll see.”_ She said, snapping her fingers. [Y/N] heard a loud screaming noise a moment later, hands clenched to a tight fist once she recognized the owner of said voice.

 

“This is just a dream.” [Y/N] muttered to herself, squeezing her eyes shut.

 

_“Is it?”_

 

The next time she opened her eyes, she was back in her bed, sweating and panting for breath, with tendrils of hair stuck on her face. There was a lingering pain in her chest and she thought she saw a bruise if she looked down her nightgown. Water. She needed a cool glass of water, she decided, trying to climb out of the bed without falling on her ass. Her hand froze right before she could grab the water jug on the table, ears perking up at the familiar screaming sound.

 

She thought she was still dreaming, head still spinning even as she dragged her fatigued self out of the room, hands pressed against the wall for support. His room was at the end of the hall, with Steve’s behind the door next to hers. She tried to call his name, voice only reaching a raspy whisper when she opened her mouth. The next scream made her quicken her step towards Bucky’s room.

 

.

The door was slightly open and whatever questions she had planned to ask died in her throat the moment she saw him. He was lying on the chair, chest glowing bright red as the woman put her talons on it. She turned to [Y/N] for a moment, smile so wide and wicked it made her stumble on her feet.

 

“No.” [Y/N] tried to stop her, tears blurring her vision. Her shaky hands went to the staff the woman was holding and the woman raised her eyebrows in amusement.

 

 _“You can barely walk and you want to fight me?”_ She asked.

 

“I want to kill you.” [Y/N] gritted her teeth, pushing the woman away from Bucky, who took a loud gasp of breath once the woman fell back. He looked at her with unfocused eyes, trying to register what had just happened. There was a second pause as the woman raised her staff before he realized her intention. Another scream was ripped out of his throat when she thrusted the sharp end of the staff at [Y/N]’s chest. Bucky watched [Y/N] crumpled to her knees in horror.

 

 _“So weak,”_ she spat, leaning down to [Y/N]’s level. _“I wonder what will happen if I push this a little deeper and destroy your true love’s heart, Bucky?”_ The women grinned.

 

“GET AWAY FROM THEM!” Steve’s voice from the door startled them, enough that Bucky saw a glint of fear in the woman’s eyes. Clint, bless him and his aim, threw his blade at the woman, grinning triumphantly when it hit her stomach. It didn’t seem to hurt her much, but it did make her let go of [Y/N], letting her slump to the floor.

 

 _“If you think this is over, you are sorely mistaken.”_ The woman gasped, the eerie smile still on her face. _“I can wait until she dies to get what I want. Maybe I should take your hearts too.”_ She cackled before disappearing into a smoke.

 

Bucky crawled to where [Y/N] lay and gently pulled her into his chest, the words ‘sorry’ escaped his lips over and over again while his friends took careful steps towards him.

 

“I don’t feel so good.” [Y/N] gasped softly, her clutch on Bucky’s shirt slowly loosened. He shook his head, brushing the tears away from her face with his thumb.

 

“It’s going to be okay.” He told her. He couldn’t stop the sob that escaped his lips when her body went limp in his hold.

 

“I’ll send letters to the King and the witch.” Sam said before he ran out of the room to get his falcon.

 

“We should get her to bed. She doesn’t seem to bleed. It’s a good thing, right?” Steve asked, turning to Natasha and Clint who looked just as confused as he was.

 

“It’s better than a stab wound to the chest.” Natasha finally said, crouching down in front of Bucky. “We need to get her cleaned up, Bucky. And you too.” Clint nodded and walked out of the room to call the servants on Natasha’s quiet order. No one spoke as they tried to get Bucky to move.

 

“It’s my fault.” Bucky mumbled as Natasha pulled him up, eyes fixed on [Y/N] even as Steve carried her out of the room.

 

“No, it’s not.” Natasha’s soft voice was so unlike her and on any other day, it would help ease the guilt in his heart. Not today, probably not ever. He didn’t think anything could lessen the pain in his chest but he kept his lips shut as he followed Natasha out of the room.

 

.

 

They needed to repaint the walls of his old room Natasha took him to. If he stared at it long enough, he could see traces of his childhood drawing underneath the white paint that has slightly yellowed and chipped. There was a spot right under the small window where there used to be a small antique upright piano and he would pretend he was a natural-born artist like Steve (he wasn’t. Not even close). His mother never really scolded him, not even when he used the brightest colored crayons and fill the stark white walls with the most abstract drawings (he thought it was because Steve’s drawing next to his were really pretty). When he was older, he let them paint over the drawing, hoping it would help him be more mature. He ended up letting Steve paint one wall of his room with flowers and night sky during his teenage years. The beautiful mural stayed there until he was in his mid-twenties. By then, the princess had come and put him under her spell and the painting was soon seen more as a nuisance. He recalled Steve’s promise of a better painting once he’s married, though he supposed the promise was long forgotten after what happened.

 

Steve was still talking when Bucky slowly came back from the flashback. He had walked into his room an hour ago with an old book given by the witches who had helped them decades ago and started on explaining what might be happening to [Y/N]. Bucky had tuned everything out after Steve mentioned there was no conclusive spell or medicine to wake her up. Except for the curse, which Bucky doubt they could break after tonight’s event.

 

“She seemed stronger.” Natasha stated, wrapping a piece of scarf around Bucky’s neck. He didn’t notice his body was shaking until Natasha and Steve gave him a worried look. “She still can’t kill any of us on the castle ground.”

 

“It’s a good thing.” Clint added, he had come back with Steve, two maids in tow with a tray of warm food and drinks. “That means she couldn’t do anything to us and her. We probably have to wait for Monica to come and help us. Peggy should be back this week. Maybe she could help us too.”

 

Bucky finally looked at them at the mention of [Y/N]’s sister, his eyes red and bright with unshed tears. “She knows?”

 

“Sam sent his falcon to give her the news.” Clint nodded. “Don’t we have those old books on healing at the library? There should be something that could help [Y/N].”

 

“We should probably go there and see if we can find anything useful. Do you want to go see her first, Bucky?” Steve fixed his attention on him again, his blue eyes clouded with worry and sympathy.

 

“She doesn’t need me there.” Bucky said and shook his head. He ignored the look in Steve’s face and gritted his teeth. _You wouldn’t understand._ The words hung right on the tips of his lips but he knew Steve didn’t deserve whatever lashing out he wanted to do. Bucky opted to stayed quiet and grabbed his coat from the chair before he quickly left the room.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You–” Bucky looked up from the tiny scripture of texts, only to have a book chucked right to his face. “–are dumber than the donkey we found in the forest when we were twelve!” Steve panted, resting his other hand on the door, clearly not caring whether he broke his nose or not.

Steve pushed open the door to [Y/N] room, smiling at the palace maids who rushed to finish lighting up the herbal candles on her bedside. He politely nodded at them as they bowed and quickly left the room and made his way to the solo chair set up next to her bed. The chair made a slight squeaking sound as he sat and pulled it closer to the bed.

 

“I’m sorry.” Steve started, because what else could he say to her? He bit his lips, eyes searching for any movements. “I really am.” He repeated, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. She still didn’t move, just like she didn’t the past week and he seemed to be apologizing every time he walked inside her room. Not wanting to cry again, Steve told her about his days, what Bucky had been up to (holed in the library, still refusing to visit her), about Peggy and how she’ll be back in two days (he hoped his crush on her sister wasn’t too obvious), and how the witch said the only cure was to break the curse.

 

“We’re going to find a way to get you back.” Steve said. He cleared his throat before he continued, “I’m sure Bucky will. He’s a smart guy. Not so smart when it comes to his own feelings. So I hope you’ll forgive him for being so stupid.” He was about to add another comment when he noticed the new sketchbook that had been sitting on the table untouched and Steve was not Steve if he wasn’t curious. So he did what he would usually do, he picked it up and opened the first page. The sigh that followed was loud and filled with frustration. “I’m so sorry but he’s really, really stupid when it comes to feelings.” Was all he said before he got up and stalked out of the room, muttering curses under his breath.

 

.

 

“You–” Bucky looked up from the tiny scripture of texts, only to have a book chucked right to his face. “–are dumber than the donkey we found in the forest when we were twelve!” Steve panted, resting his other hand on the door, clearly not caring whether he broke his nose or not.

 

“Excuse me?” Bucky frowned, rubbing the sore spot on his forehead that he was sure would leave a bruise, judging by how hard Steve threw it and the throbbing pain he started to feel.

 

Steve angrily strode towards him and Bucky would’ve been really worried for his life if he wasn’t so sleep deprived and drowning in guilt and God knows what else. Steve, his best friend Steve, who claimed to be willing to go to the end of the line with him and swore to be his friend ever since they were kids, decided that the book was not enough and grabbed the pens and other books he could get his hands on, hurling it at Bucky with incredible strength.

 

“STOP IT!” Bucky shouted as he ducked away from the thickest book he had ever seen in the past week. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

 

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Steve paused and took several deep breaths, looking as if he was going into a stroke. He looked–no, glared– at Bucky, ready to fling another book. “What the hell is wrong with _you_!?”

 

“Is this about me not visiting her?” Bucky sighed, feeling an incoming headache. “I told you I can’t. I did this to her.”

 

“For the love of God, it wasn’t your fault.” Steve flung a pencil at him. It almost stabbed his eye but Steve didn’t seem to care. He was on a roll. “And for your information, do you know she’s in love with you? Do you know how hurt she’ll be when she wakes up and realizes you weren’t there?”

 

“Ha-ha.” Bucky gave Steve his most unimpressed look. “Very funny. She’s not in love with me.”

 

“Are you–” Steve looked like he really might have a stroke. “Are you serious?” He whispered before he started flinging his arms. “Bucky, have you lost your mind or something? That girl is in love with you. Even the palace cook knows.”

 

“No, she isn’t.” Bucky furrowed his brows. _She couldn’t be_. Especially not after what happened in the lake. What kind of joke was this?

 

“Bucky. Her two most favorite topics are Butterscotch and you.” Steve pointed his finger at the first book he hurled at him. “If that doesn’t scream I love you Bucky Barnes, I don’t know what does.”

 

.

 

Let it be known that Steve Rogers was always right. He was right when he tried to fight a guest prince for bullying the palace maid when they were ten, he was right when he punched another royal guest for trying to hurt Butterscotch (the boy passed out with a bleeding nose and bruised eyes), and he was most definitely right when he told Bucky he was more stupid than the donkey they found when they were kids. Bucky flipped the book to the next page, finding another rough sketch of him sitting on the blanket, eyes closed as he tried to soak in the sun. There was another small drawing of him smiling at her. He remembered this, he thought as he traced his finger around the sketch, careful not to smudge it. He thought she was really pretty and was about to tell her that, and chickened out the moment she looked at him.

 

“You can say it.” Bucky grumbled, feeling Steve’s intense gaze on him as he flipped to the last sketches.

 

“I am always right and you should go to her and apologize.” Steve crossed his arms and sat on the chair across the table.

 

“There are more sketches of you.” Steve added when he noticed the uncertainty in Bucky’s eyes, his voice filled with fondness. “There’s another sketchbook on the table, I may or may not have took a peek at it too. It’s just drawings of you and Butterscotch.”

 

“The cat is too damn spoiled.” Bucky mumbled as he stood up. “I’m… I’m just going to go.” He lamely ended, earning a chuckle from Steve.

 

“Shut up.”

 

.

 

The walk back to [Y/N]’s room felt like forever. Bucky could feel sweat dripping down his back even though it was cold outside and he wasn’t wearing a coat. His mind raced, trying to come up with apologies only to cringe a moment later. The ache in his left arm seemed to finally dulled when he pushed open her door. As expected, Natasha and Sam were in her room when he walked in. They turned to him, flashed him a small smile, and quickly left, shutting the door behind them before Bucky could run off. Bucky swore he heard Natasha threatening him right as she walked past him.

 

One deep breath later, he turned to the bed, where she was still peacefully asleep. He stumbled his way towards her, laughing a little to himself when he almost tripped over a box.

 

“Hi.” Bucky quietly said. His voice sounded tight, as if he had been holding his breath this whole time. The words got caught in his throat the moment he held her hand. “You hand is so cold. I told them to keep you warm.”

 

“I’d kiss you but that wouldn’t be really nice, would it? Gotta ask for your permission first.” Bucky chuckled before he continued, voice a little choked up with tears. “You’re probably sick of apologies right now but I’m going to say it anyway. I’m sorry. I was really scared, I still am. But Steve kind of hurled books at me and I think he has been hanging out with Clint too much because his aim has gotten a lot better. I have a huge bruise on my forehead. You’ll probably laugh at me if you’re awake.” He curled a strand of loose hair behind her ear, lips curling into a soft smile. “I deserve it for not visiting you sooner. I’m sorry. Again.”

 

Bucky was about to add a little confession when he noticed her extremely pale face. He frowned, placing the back of his hand on her forehead. She wasn’t supposed to be this cold, was she? Fear pricked his skin, his heart pounding in his ears. He quickly got up, giving her hand one last gentle squeeze before he left.

 

And he ran.

 

.

 

“Bucky? Why are you–” Steve paused at Bucky expression. “Is everything okay?”

 

“She’s too pale.” Bucky breathed out. “She’s too pale and too cold. It’s–it’s not normal, Steve. We have to do something now.” By then, he was rambling words he didn’t even understand, oblivious to Steve and their friends who were now looking more alert than few seconds ago.

 

“We can’t. The falcon won’t be back until tonight. The witch said she may have found something to help her and will come here with falcon.” Sam shook his head.

 

“We can’t wait that long.” Bucky replied, eyes wide and unfocused. “She’s really sick.” No one said anything and Bucky let out a hollow laugh, wiping the tears off his face. There was a grim determination on his face when he looked up again.

 

“No.” Steve quickly said, knowing Bucky a little too well to indulge him with this reckless decision he was about to make.

 

Bucky grabbed the coat he left on the table and ignored Steve’s pointed stare. “I have to do this.”

 

“No, we can wai–“

 

“I can’t let anyone die again.” Bucky cut him off, shrugging Steve’s grip on his wrist before he turned to their friends. His lips slowly curled into a sad smile. “Not anymore.”

 

.

In the end, it only took him one small step and he was back to that day, where he thought everything would be alright and there was no such thing as curse. Unlike his young self, he knew what he was getting himself into this time. But no matter how much expectation or mental preparation he had, he still crumbled to the ground, gritting his teeth so hard to stop himself from screaming out loud.

 

There was _so much_ pain. No. Blinding agony, ripping through his skin like knives and fire, and through his muscles and bones. It was as if someone broke every single piece of his bones. He couldn’t really think much with the pain. He writhed as he forced himself to crawl further, only to stop a second later. This was how he was going to die, he thought as he gasped for oxygen. His vision blurred the further he was away from the castle. He could barely hear his friends on the other side of the gate.

 

“ _How foolish_.” The voice pierced through his ears and he grunted in pain as he felt that familiar painful talon-like nails on his chin, forcing him to look up. “ _You’re willing to die for her? That’s convenient_.” She chuckled and Bucky smiled at the slight panic on her voice.

 

“You’re scared.” Bucky stated, wincing as he got on his knees. “You know no one will be able to love you.”

 

 _“I don’t need love. They make you weak.”_ She hissed. _“Tell me, James Buchanan Barnes, are you really willing to die for her?”_

 

“Yes.” He replied without any hesitation. He found a little comfort in the way she twisted her face, how she looked like she had lost her composure. “I love her and I want her safe. Do you even know how that feels?” He taunted her, smirking despite the pain.

 

“Maybe I should just save you the time and kill you myself, you insolent–” The words died in her throat and Bucky watched in shock as a thin sword went through her chest. It was pulled back quickly and the woman turned just in time for someone to punch her to the ground. She gurgled out blood, trying to gasp for breath (or maybe put out another curse) before the sword pierced her chest one more time, sending her right to hell. The screeching sound that pierced his ears and the blinding bright light that followed almost knocked him unconscious.

 

“I hate bullies.” His savior, muttered as she wiped the sword on the woman’s cloak. It took Bucky awhile to realize the pain had disappeared. He blinked his eyes, ridding the multicolored spots before them. “I leave for a week and you almost die, Barnes.”

 

“Peggy.” Bucky was hallucinating. He had to be. She was standing in front of him, eyebrows furrowed in both confusion and amusement. She let out a sigh when Bucky didn’t move from the ground and continued to stare at her.

 

“Come on, Barnes.” She helped him up, letting him lean his whole body on her shoulder. Now that the pain was gone, his body seems to feel weak. He could sleep for a day, or maybe a week, he thought as Peggy assisted him back to the castle.

 

“No wonder Steve loves you.” Bucky muttered. The words caused Peggy to stagger, almost sending him falling face first to the ground.

 

.

 

There were a lot of tears. A lot. Steve was crying, Sam was crying, Clint was sobbing, and Natasha was somewhere between crying and trying not to laugh. And Bucky, he didn’t know if he just wiped away his tears or his snot at this point. They were lying on top of each other, feeling the sun tickle their skin.

 

“We’re free?” Steve asked again in a whisper, as if someone could take back the curse.

 

“We’re free.” Natasha nodded, face bright with joy.

 

“Please move, I can’t– breathe!” Clint roughly pushed his friends off, still giggling between his tears.

 

“Your shoulder.” Sam suddenly pointed out, halting everyone from their crying fest. Bucky looked down to his shoulder. His shirt was slightly torn, exposing a clear view of his left shoulder where he could see faint scars that twined along his arm much like the wild roses on their front gate.

 

“[Y/N].” Bucky suddenly gasped. He quickly stood on his wobbly feet, trying not to lose his balance as he rushed back to the castle. There was a pause as they watched him go, stumbling a few times before he disappeared inside the castle.

 

 

“We should probably go–” Steve started, only to be stopped by Peggy. She gave him a look that shut him up.

 

“And watch them make out? No.”

 

.

 

“Sir, the lady–,” The palace maid started, stopping him from pushing the door open.

 

“Is she awake?”

 

“Yes, but–” The palace maid trailed off while Bucky walked past her and pushed the door open.

 

[Y/N] was well and awake. She was on sitting on the bed, her back facing him and another palace maid stood next to her. Bucky’s eyes trailed from the dress pooling around her feet and up to her messy hair and his brain just decided to stop working. They both quickly turned their attention and Bucky finally realized why the previous maid tried to stop him from entering the room.

 

“BUCKY!”

 

“Sorry! Fuck–Sorry.” Bucky turned around, almost giving himself whiplash. He felt heat rising up to his neck and to his face, the image forever burned in his mind.

 

“I told you so, sir.” The maid, who was definitely not that much older than him, muttered before she bowed and left him. Bucky was too shocked to even come up with a retort.

 

He stood vigil in front of the door for what seemed like forever, his left shoes tapping the floor repeatedly. He didn’t notice the maid leaving the room and stopped in front of him until she tapped his arm nervously, fearing she might have overstepped some boundaries. And he jumped, causing the maid to squeak in fear.

 

“Lady [Y/N] is fully dressed and she said you can come in if you want, your highness.” The woman stammered, rushing to get away from him as soon as possible. _Dressed. Oh_.

 

And Bucky’s brain stopped working again.

 

.

 

It was [Y/N] who finally got tired of waiting for Bucky to snap out of his shock and walked out of the room by herself, her hand still holding the door for support. Bucky was still outside her room, now seated on the ground, cross-legged. Steve was standing next to him, clearly looking unamused by his best friend, though he did brighten up and picked her up in a tight embrace.

 

“You’re well!”

 

“I am.” [Y/N] chuckled, patting his back, her eyes still trained on Bucky. “Is he okay?”

 

“I don’t think so.” Steve shrugged, letting her back down effortlessly. “But it’s your problem now. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Bucky squeaked. Squeaked. He looked up at her, face still flushed red. And it was just too adorable for [Y/N], who had to spend the past week in a dreamless sleep.

 

“That’s a very ugly bruise.” [Y/N] winced, because of course, what else should she talk about when the person she really loves was sitting in front of her with the most adorable expression.

 

Fortunately, it was her faux pas that melted the awkward atmosphere between the two of them (Steve had successfully left the hallway, Peggy’s warning echoing in his ears). His expression melted into a childish grin as he took her hand.

 

“You’re really okay.” He beamed.

 

“I am.” [Y/N] kneeled in front of him, her hand gently caressing his face. “This is really nice, isn’t it? No curse, no weird witches.”

 

“It is. I was going to give you a kiss.” Bucky confessed, his cheeks flushing pink again. He rested his other hand on her waist. “It feels a little improper if I didn’t ask first.”

 

“Well, you can kiss me now.” She replied nonchalantly, only to squeal a moment later when he pulled her into his lap and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

 

.

 

EPILOGUE

 

The sun warmed its way into the castle ground. Most of the palace maids busied themselves with flower arrangements on the royal hall. It was an important day after all. There were people coming in and out of the palace. Everyone was busy. They had to make it as perfect as they possibly could. There was music playing in the ballroom to welcome the royal guests. King T’challa and his family looked pleased to finally visit the palace. Wine was served. There was laughter and music and light dancing as they waited for the event to start.

 

In one of the rooms, just a few doors away from the guest bedroom, the palace cook proudly placed the last rose on top of the layered cake before she stepped down from the stool and left the room. The door was slightly ajar, giving passerbys a glimpse of the most beautiful wedding cake.

 

“Butterscotch, no.”

 

The cat meowed a little louder as she stopped her paw mid-air. She meowed again, looking offended as Bucky picked her up and carried her out of the room. “You can’t eat the cake.” He chided the cat that seemed to get fatter by the day. _Someone_ must have been feeding her more food (but he really loved _that someone_ and it was an adorable sight so he let it go). His left leather shoe had been dirtied by Butterscotch’s soiled paws, and he mentally thanked the Gods and [Y/N] for not letting him wear the white shoes for this special day.

 

Butterscotch, still glaring at him, huffed and decided the best petty revenge for the man who didn’t let her eat the cake was to step on the other shoe, leaving a very obvious footprint and ran off before she could get caught. If he didn’t let her eat the cake, then maybe [Y/N] would. [Y/N] would definitely give her the cake she deserved. Her butt swished as she trudged towards [Y/N]’s room, glancing back to give Bucky a triumphant look.

 

“Don’t.you.dare.” Bucky hissed as he watched his cat pushed open the door with her paws, and walked into her room with the most sickeningly adorable meow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY FINISHED IT! I’m so happy with this work? I’m not really familiar with this genre of writing but i really enjoyed writing it and I hope you like it as much as i do. Tell me what you think! As always, thank you victoria for helping me with this fic <3


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